Of Hershey's Chocolate and Muggle Music
by Rotten Capers
Summary: When Sirius opens the door at the wrong time in the wrong place, he discovers something about his baby brother. When James is forced by his parents to go apologize to Severus, he learns the Slytherin's home life is far from ideal. When both pairs meet at St. Mungo's, new perspectives are formed. Abused!Snape&Reg Dark! AU! NON CANNON COMPLIANT see full summary inside. (ABANDONED?)
1. Why You Shouldn't Open Doors

**THIS IS A BAD CHAPTER, THE NEXT ONE WILL BE BETTER, I PROMISE!**

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 **Disclaimer:** **Oh yes, and I SIRIUS-LY do not own Harry Potter! So don't sue! Or Mary Sue...it's more painful.**

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* * *

Tap.

Tap.

Tippity-tap.

"S..sssirius?"

Tap.

Tap.

"S..*sob* Ssirrriuss?"

Tap.

Tap.

Thud.

"SS...SSIRIUSSS!"

Bang.

Thud.

Bang.

Boom.

"SIRRIII.."

Clang.

Thud.

"Pppp..please.."

BOOM.

"SIRIUS! I N..NNEED YOU! D..DON'T GG..GO!"

My hand hurts from pounding on the door. I'm in hysterics, I can't think straight. I...I just want my brother back. Of course, even that, the one person I had, the one person I loved, the one person who had enough of me to break my heart, had to be taken away from me. Involuntarily, a bitter laugh escapes my lips. What did I expect?

Yet, I can still remember a better time.

A time when Bellatrix still had a genuine smile.

There was a time when Andromeda still was in the family.

There was a time when I felt like I was worth something.

There was a time when Sirius loved me...

In a way, my childhood with Sirius is like snow.

Once upon a time, our love for one another poured from the sky in great abundance, each flake different, each one melting on my fingertips.

I used to play in the snow, laughing, singing, scraping my knees, getting back up.

The snow seemed so endless, unstoppable, forever floating down from who-knows-where.

But, one day, Spring came, and melted all the snow away.

All I have left are memories of Winter.

But oh, what wonderful, sun-filled memories they are.

 _"C'mon, let's race!"_

 _"Reg, are you okay?"_

 _"I'll always be there for you."_

 _"Ickle Reggie! Hehehe.."_

 _"Oohh, I'm Belllatrix, Bellatrix Blllack, I'm a purebloood, and I can't flirt.."_

 _"I love you, Reg."_

 _"I love you, Reg."_

 _I love you._

 _I LOVE YOU._

"NO YOU DON'T!" I scream and punch the wall. BAAAD CHOICE. Wincing, I sit back down and notice the river of tears pouring from my eyes, and, in spite of everything, I smile.

Those times are long, long gone, just little whispers of happiness I keep close to my heart. I smile at the thought of Siri's laugh, the feel of his arms against mine, his smile, his voice when he's comforting me.

What I wouldn't give to get my brother back.

Our relationship wasn't perfect. No good one is. We had are share of arguments - him calling me short, me calling him arrogant...

But we've always managed to overcome our difficulties. When Mother would yell at Siri..us for being "not up to standards," I was there for him with angsty muggle music and confidence-boosters. When the bullies at the park beat me up, he was always there with nicked potions and Hershey's Cookies & Creme Chocolate (I'm a stress eater). Nightmares were a common occurrence for both of us; more often then not, I'd end up in his bed.

I haven't slept with Sirius for five years now. Not since he left for Hogwarts.

I've had severe insomnia ever since. I'm lucky to get four hours of sleep.

I know Sirius is running away. I know it. I think he's going to that friend of his...James...

James. Just the name makes me see red with anger. James, the nice, kind, funny friend.

The friend that stole my brother. Sometimes, at Hogwarts, I hear him call James his "brother". I'm his brother. Me. Regulus Black.

 _I love you. I'll always be there for you._

I sink down until I'm sitting on the floor, and lean against Sirius's door.

Lies. That's all they were. Wonderful, sweet, white lies, but lies all the same. Just a nasty, disgusting poison served in a delicious, fluffy cake. If there's anything I've learned from you, Sirius, it's that lies are started by promises.

Where were you when mother put me on Crucio for 5 minutes straight? When she decided to do it every time I did something "wrong" - which is quite a bit, mind you.

Where were you when I stopped caring about myself? When I fainted in potions due to low blood sugar? When I didn't eat for a week straight?

Where were you when I decided to experiment with cutting? And never was able to stop?

Where were you when I stopped sleeping? When the bags under my eyes turned purple?

Where were you when I wanted to die?

Oh, Sirius, run off to James, run off to your sanctuary, but be aware, I hate you. I HATE YOU. I DON'T CARE IF YOU GOT HIT BY A CAR. I DON'T CARE IF...I WON'T ATTEND YOUR FUNERAL! I'LL MURDER YOU MYSELF!

I'm lying to myself.

I care.

I care, and I love Sirius so, so much.

And that's the problem.

I'm not going to show him that. He doesn't deserve it.

Yet, a few stray tears leak from my eyes, and soon I'm sobbing.

I need Sirius. I can't let him go.

A dark shadow obscures my vision. I look up.

Oh, no...

I am so dead...

It's my "Dear Mother". And she's in a mood.

"Oh Regulus," She hisses into my ears before pointing her wand at me. "Don't cry."

"CRUCIO!"

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Sobs seem to shake the whole house. If I close my eyes, I can almost see the oceans of tears streaming down my younger brother's face. I had hope for him once, but now, it's gone...like everything else good in this house, it vanished like smoke, once there, but now gone, escaped through the chimney.

Regulus. Different than Reg.

I still don't know what happened. When I came home after first year, he was...different. It was really scary. Reg, my cute, nice, sweet, food-loving brother had turned into Regulus, the empty, blank-faced, detached, perfect-pureblood son.

"SIRIUS! I N..NNEED YOU!"

His voice is breaking my heart. No, he's just playing me. He has to be...

He hasn't shown this much emotion since...

So maybe...

Soft sobs somehow find their way into the room.

I can't hear this anymore.

 _"_ Scilencio," I whisper, wiping away a tear from my eyes. I can't let him distract me. I need to go. I need to leave this house.

I toss another shirt into my luggage.

Time to depart.

With silent fingers, I open the door. I'm not prepared for what I see.

Mother's maniac laughter rips through the air. Her wand's pointing right at Regulus.

I know what curse she has him under.

Crucio.

CRUCIO.

CRUCIO!

I'm expecting a scream. A shout. Heck, I'm at the point where I'm fine if my baby brother let loose a jumble of curse words that would make a sailor blush.

What scaring me is the fact that Regulus isn't even reacting. He's just lying there, crippled and twitching in pain. Aside for a few whimpers, I would never have guessed that he's suffering from the Cruciatus.

That kind of reaction is a result of one thing only - practice and experience.

"BLACKS DON'T CRY, REGULUS!" She yells. "I THOUGHT YOU LEARNED TO NOT SHOW WEAKNESS!"

"Buutt...Sssiriusss..." He mumbles.

"YOU DARE CONTRADICT ME?!" Her voice seems to ricochet off the walls. "AND I WAS ALMOST DONE!"

She shrugs.

"Oh well," Her voice becomes soft and menacing. "I guess we could go for longest time a person's ever survived under the Cruciatus..."

Something inside me snaps.

"STOP! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO A MEMBER OF YOUR FAMILY?" I hear myself shouting, before letting loose a long monologue of swear words that should not be spoken in public, ever. I feel my temper take control of me. My focus is completely on my...Mother, if I can still call her that, and I'm to furious to even notice that Reg's still under the unforgivable. I decide to give her a low blow.

"A MILLION OF YOU IS WORTH LESS THAN ONE MUGGLE-BORN!" I shout.

The whole house goes silent.

All the portraits turn towards me, some amused (believe it or not, SOME of the Blacks actually started out okay).

I don't even notice the green light pouring from...her wand. Or Regulus's soft moans.

" _What_ did you say?" Her voice is barely more than a whisper, but I catch every word - I know its when she's quiet is when she's the most deadly.

"It's true, you know," I say, my voice equally full of malice. "Let my brother go."

She drops her wand out of shock. I see an opening.

"REG! RUN! NOW!"

I scoop up my younger brother. I'm so nervous, I don't even feel his shaking.

Run.

Run.

RUN.

RUN.

RUN!

RUN!

RUN!

I've never run faster.

Left, Right, Right, Straight, Left, Right, Round the bend...

My feet pound on the Earth to the rhythm of my beating heart.

RUN.

I look at Regulus in my hands.

He's twitching.

"Open your eyes, Reg," I whisper, my voice cracking with emotion.

"C'mon, Reg, I'm gonna get you to safety," I say, a little louder, starting to feel desperate.

Because I don't want to know weather he's past repair.

My cute, smart, lovable little brother, the one who always stayed strong, the one I've neglected - I don't want to accept that the truth is, he'll never wake up.

NO! Don't think like that.

He's gonna wake up,

He's gonna wake up.

Reg's gonna be fine.

Each syllable matches my flying feet meeting the ground.

Still, I can't help but think -

Was I too late?

* * *

So much pain. White hot, nasty pain. Knives cutting into my skin - yet, so beautiful, because I know, if I can sense it, I must be real enough, be human enough, be alive enough, to feel.

Colors dance in front of my eyes, and I feel Death's cold fingers wrap themselves around me, taking me away from this world.

So What? I ask myself. Do I have anything left to live for?

I used to have books. Now I know that sometimes even knowledge can't save you.

I used to have Hope that one day, my life will change. My life will be better. That I will be better.

That my family would be proud -

Open their arms, and say -

"Reg, we love you. We couldn't be prouder of you."

I used to have Siri. Different than Sirius.

Should I die? Do I have a choice? Do I have anything else to live for?

No.

No, I don't.

I feel myself drown.

Gone, just a nasty, ugly scab on fate's leg -

The one that everybody thinks is annoying, but not annoying enough to get any of their attention.

My mark erased from the book that is history.

I fall into the darkness...

Something stops me.

 _"Reg,"_

I hear.

Voices in my head don't sound like that.

 _"Open your eyes, Reg,"_

Sirius.

What is his voice doing in my head?

 _"C'mon, Reg,"_

The voice is getting louder.

 _"I'm gonna get you to safety,"_

I try to convince myself that it's a lie. I try to envelop myself in the darkness again. It doesn't work.

Like a hand, pulling one up from the ground, the strange voice pulls me from the despondent pit that is my mind.

I feel my eyes flutter open. Raindrops splatter across my face, mixed with tears of relief. I look up, and see my brother leaning over me, his clothes wet and his hair in a worse state than I'd ever believe he'd allow it to be.

Sirius.

Siri.

He saved me.

My brother.

"S...ssirrr...iiuusss?"

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I look down at my brother, my baby brother, the one who was always strong.

His face is so pale, emotionless.

NO.

His eyes flutter open.

"S...ssirrr...iiuusss?" His voice is just a whisper, cracking with emotion.

I feel an overwhelming wave of protectiveness and relief.

"Reg, Reg, my Little Reggie, Regulus, Reg, Reggie, you're fine now," I whisper into his ear, pulling him into an even tighter embrace.

I don't even feel my knees hitting the sidewalk. I crash down. My shoulders shake as I sob into him.

"You're fine. We're gonna be fine. She's gone. That monster's gone," My voice wavers.

I look into his deep, blue gray eyes, and feel another surge of emotion.

"I'm so, so, so sorry. This is all my fault," I say. "All my fault."

Regaining control of myself, I look around. The rain's pouring down hard now, soaking me and Reg. This can't be good for his health. As if on cue, another tremor runs up and down his whole body.

I pick him up, surprised by how light he is. Oh well, for all I know, he could have an eating disorder! I suddenly feel very guilty. If only I had done better...If only I was a better brother...If only..

NO.

I need to focus on the task at hand, and give my brother a makeshift check-up later.

I reach into my soaked pocket, and pull out a few galleons I keep around for emergencies. There's enough for a night or two at the Leaky Caldron.

A thought hits me.

I have no idea whatsoever where we are.

I have gotten us completely lost, and from looking around, this is a muggle neighborhood.

 _Damnit._

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Sirius is here. Right here.

Though he's cold, his presence is warming me to my very core.

I'm so confused.

I don't know if I'm dead, hallucinating, dreaming, or this is just real.

I'm too tired to think, so I choose not to dwell on it.

I'm still in so much pain. Another tremor racks my body, and the cold chills my bones, seeping into my heart, freezing my fingers, and I can almost hear its howls of pain and remorse if I listen closely...

I'm suddenly terrified. What if I don't survive?

I can already feel death's shadow looming over me.

"Sssii...rr..rri.." I manage to croak out. He pulls me in tighter. My brain feels like it's working slow. My head's swimming. When was the last time I slept? Or ate? Or showered, now that I think about it?

I can't remember any of those things. I can, however, remember the last time my blood spilled out of my wrists.

It's really beautiful, in a morbid way, when you think about it.

Little rivers of red streaming down, waterfalling into the ocean on the marble floor, looking like strokes of a paintbrush against my pale skin.

My hand twitches again. I want my beautiful, shiny, blade...

I lean back into Sirius.

So tired...

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

I press my ear against his heart, reminding myself I do have things to stay alive for.

I slowly drift into a restless slumber, hoping my weight isn't hurting Sirius, and embrace the blanket of unconsciousness.

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Okay, I'm in the muggle world, with a sick, passed-out brother who is still walking on the line of the living and the dead from my mother's Cruciatus, I have no muggle money, no shelter, no parents, It's some ungodly hour, like, 12 o'clock at night, and all the while it's pouring rain. Did I mention I'm lost as well? Yeah, my life is just going great!

I sigh. I can't be thinking like that. I need to get us to safety, and perhaps find a way to contact James tomorrow.

I'm not going to get any sleep tonight.

I look over, and see a strange sign with a word I've never seen before. "Metro", it reads, and the letters are...strangely...glowing...

I'm drawn toward the sign, and pull Reg along with me.

I notice that there is stairs made out of concrete leading down to some sort of underground fortress.

Oh, well, we'll be out of the rain.

I start to go down the stairs, and wince at each little shudder that runs up and down my brother's fragile body.

I gently place him down and look over at him.

He opens his eyes again.

"'M cccolld," He mumbles, his voice slurred.

"C'mere," I draw him closer.

"I..llovve...yyou...ssirriuuuss," He whispers, before sliding into my arms. I don't think he's even realizing what he's doing or saying.

"I love you too, Reg," I sit down, my brother's head in my lap, and I watch the rain pour down, washing away the dirt and grime from the city streets

In a way, I feel like my own sins, my own mistakes, my inner devils are slowly slipping away, gone with the water washing everything clean.

* * *

"Mmmmm..." I moan. For a minute, I feel like I'm in heaven. It's so warm, yet I'm strangely...wet? I feel some pressure on my chest. Mmmmm. So warm. I snap my eyes open, and everything comes flooding back to me.

Regulus...I look down. There he is, on my torso.

Oh well, no time right now to give him a check-up. Though I must admit, he looks _bad._ Like _real bad._

"Reggie, what did you do to yourself?" And how could I, your big brother, let this happen to you? I run a finger through his midnight black hair and close my eyes.

Suddenly, something hits me.

How many other children have to go through this? How many Slytherins are Slytherins because they had to learn to be crafty to survive? Am I the "bad" person for judging them biased on... No, No, no use thinking like that. I can't question the things I know to be true when my psyche is so dangerously fragile.

I turn back to Reg.

He appears...to be...shaking and convulsing still, and small whimpers of pain pass through his chapped lips. Panic overtakes me yet again - really, this much stress cannot be good for my mental health.

I grab his shoulders.

"Hsss!" I near throw him down, almost banging his head on the concrete. He's running a high fever - very unexpected. Sick from the cold, most likely. Hmmm. What should I do? I could try and treat him right here...I look down at my brother's sickly frame convulsing. On second thought...I think he needs medical attention. St. Mungo's. But how to get there?

 _Wooosh._

I feel my hair lift off my neck and a cool breeze fills the whole underground cave. I look over. A...train...like the Hogwart's Express...is flying...on metal bars...underground. What?

Oh well, the things these muggles make.

"Now at: Abbey Wood, Greenwitch. Departing soon. Please exit train," A smooth, robotic, feminine voice utters, and I shiver. Yikes.

Suddenly, everything breaks loose. People start coming out of the train, and people start forcing their way in. The sound of useless chatter fills my ears in all directions.

I don't know what to do. Strange people, these muggles are.

I feel my pockets - maybe I have something that can help us?

I feel something round...money, not useful at all. Something greasy...not sure if I want to know what that is...It feels like Sniv's gross hair. And gross personality..if personalities have textures.

Something leather...AHA! My emergency supply of floo powder!

I breathe a sigh of relief. Now to find a fireplace...

I look around. None here, per say, but as I turn a corner -AHA! A fireplace!

I don't even look back.

"St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries!"

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So cold. So, so cold. I feel like my head is swimming...in water. I like water very much...Sev doesn't like water. That's why he never washes his hair. He thinks I don't notice. Luc...Luci...L...Li...Lc...Lucius - wow, what a bad name for nicknames, really - likes to wash his hair. I think. I don't know what to think anymore.

Hmmmm.

I think I'm moving. We're moving. Who is 'we'? Why are we moving? Why am I asking questions like a toddler?

Hmmmmm.

The world feels...blurry. Harsh. Cold. So, so cold.

Wait, not everything is cold. Something is warm. Sirius. So, so warm.

"Don' worry, Reg, I'm getting you help."

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THUD.

I feel my feet land on solid ground. Fewf. At least something could go right.

I don't have time for thoughts. I rush over to the accountant at the Emergency Department, who, if I was in the right state of mind, would probably find rather attractive.

"Please! M-my brother! H-hhhe...FIX HIM!" My words are shaky, and my voice cracks at the end. Gosh, I thought I got over puberty years ago!

"Calm down, Sir!" The nurse in charge proceeds in forcing a liberal amount of calming draught down my throat. "Name, and please list any injuries you know of!"

"R-regulus Black. Fourteen...Cruciatus." I manage to get out. So much for a calming draught!

"Thank you." Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a couple mediwitches taking my brother away. "Take a seat." She gestures to the stiff, rather unattractive chairs located to the right of her hand. I sit down and slump.

My whole world has turned upside-down in a matter of hours.

And to think...I was going to leave my brother...my baby brother...my responsibility...alone in a house with a sadistic, mental mother.

"HEY! SOMEBODY! HELP!" Someone shouts. Wait...I know that voice. James? My heart lifts. But what in the blazes would Prongs be doing at St. Mungo's at - I check the magically charmed wall that shows time - _SIX IN THE MORNING?_

That's it, I've finally cracked. There are some genetic bullets you just can't dodge.

The doors fly open. I'm not even being melodramatic. They literally open with a solid _BANG._

James Potter, my best friend, bursts through the doorway, followed by his parents. They're all covered in blood. My gosh...IS PRONGS HURT?! Panic races through me...again. Gosh, I'm going to fry my brain doing this!

James steps to the side, and I crane my neck to see a grossly thin, tall figure...my eyes travel up to the greasy hair and pallor complexion...not to mension that hooked nose...all covered in blood, scratches, scars, and bruises.

Oh. My. Gosh.

 _Snivellus?_

* * *

 **END!**

 **I don't know guys...I'm loosing gusto for this story...REVIEW AND OTHER STUFFS to make me continue.**

 **Perhaps I'll just end here. It's complete...ish.**

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 **Namely: Ed's lil Alchemist, MCRichGuy, Pandora's Song, Sansle, Albert Faustus, CrazyFM, Gloriejo, Kagome Echizen Fan, PiffyEQ, Zorpox, pnazy4life, Gray, tiffanyy1234, and trumpetgrl2!**

 **You are what keep writers going!**

 **BIG QUESTION: SLASH?!**


	2. Why You Shouldn't Apologize

**EVERYTHING THAT SHOULD BE IN CHAPTER ONE:**

 **Okay, so I've always wondered what happened after the Whomping Willow incident...and why in the world the PARENTS did nothing about it...however, if you were wondering that too (you weren't? Oh, well...) WAIT NO LONGER!**

 **Warnings: Child Abuse/Domestic Violence. If you are uncomfortable with that in any way, shape, or form, I suggest you leave this story immediately. I, however, feel it necessary to step into new perspectives to make us more well-rounded humans, and though some of these perspectives may be nasty and cruel, they are very much part of life. Ignorance is never bliss...it is only stupidity.** **(You didn't ask? WELL, NO NEED TO BE RUDE!)** **This story will most likely be rather fast-paced(ish). (Please tell me how long you want it to be in the reviews!) I also want to say that this may end up as a SLASH fanfiction. That means an...er...NON purely platonic relationship between two males, for those of you who don't know. (MAY END UP, as in review if you are opposed/all for this idea!)**

 **For those who care...**

 **There will be: DUMBLEDORE BASHING, GOOD SLYTHERINS, LILY BASHING (maybe..I just don't like her) (you know the drill...just review and tell me.)**

 **I am FINDing this to be way to long, so let's just get to the story.**

 **Oh yeah, and...**

 **Disclaimer: If I owned the Harry Potter Franchise, then Harry would have been killed off in the middle of book one and the rest of the series would be backstory from the Malfoy's, the Black's,** **Snape, and Tom Riddle/Voldemort, along with inner battles, angst, corruption, and power struggles.**

 **Now that I think about it...Wow...am I glad that I don't own Harry Potter.**

 **I toyed with the idea of Sevvie dearest having a younger sibling...thoughts?**

* * *

 **IV.**

"JAMES PO-TTER!" Mum's voice quite literally echoes off the walls, each syllable loud and drawn out.

 _STOMP._

 _STOMP._

 _STOMP._

BANG. "God-" she yells, before a muttered stream curse words float up the stairs. Yikes. She must be is a really, really bad mood to swear in front of me.

I've never seen her this angry before. And it's truly terrifying. These are the moments when I remember my mum is of Black descent - and can certainly screech like one when she needs to.

"YOUR REPORT CARD CAME TODAY!" All the color drains from my face. Oh, gosh no. It really couldn't..."AS WELL AS A VERY _SPECIAL_ LETTER FROM DEAR PROFESSOR MCGONOGALL ABOUT A VERY _SPECIAL_ LITTLE PRANK!"

Oh gods, it really could get worse.

I'm on the verge of a panic attack.

Mum arrives in the doorway, looking angry. No, furious. At me.

Great.

She throws something in my face.

"Go on. Read it." I look up at her.

"Mum...I can explai-" I say.

"NOW." I gulp and look down at the paper, hands trembling slightly.

 _Dear Mr. and Ms. Charulus and Dorea Potter,_

 _This letter concerns your son, Mr. James Potter, as well as Mr. Sirius Black,_ _Mr. Remus Lupin, and Mr. Peter Pettigrew_ _. It has come to my attention that these four boys have formed a group called the "Marauders," and,_ _from what I've observed within said group,_ _I find it is a very healthy friendship, however, there is a flourishing rivalry between this group and Slytherin student, Mr. Severus Snape. Though discouraged multiple times by detentions, this feud only seems to be growing, and, from what I can tell, also growing progressively more violent. I will grant you that Mr. Snape is not entirely innocent; he does nothing to dissipate the growing animosity between him and his peers, however, I feel four-to-one are hardly fair odds._

 _I had been becoming increasingly upset with these engagements as the students' sixth year went on, however, one particular incident pushed me over the edge completely. I believe you are aware of Mr. Lupin's conditions? We have been, successfully, accommodating him and his needs, thankfully, without fail for the past five years, until recently, a few months ago. Mr. Black somehow managed to convince Mr. Snape to go into the Whomping Willow passageway (which leads to the room in the Shrieking Shack, where Mr. Lupin was undergoing his transformation), during the night of the full moon. Mr. Snape, upon arrival, learned of Mr. Lupin's disability - thankfully, Mr. Potter managed to rescue him before he was (severely) harmed, killed, or worse, bitten. Headmaster Dumbledore ensured that Mr. Snape will not tell anyone about Mr. Lupin's ailments, and is bound by an unbreakable vow not to do so, so that is none of our concern anymore. Said Headmaster was also fully convinced this was just a small prank gone wrong, and provided detentions accordingly, however, I feel that although Mr. Black and Mr. Potter did indeed get punished, they still owe an apology to Mr. Snape as well as myself and the other staff, as we were woken in the middle of the night and told to drop everything._

 _Thank you for your time, Mr. and Ms. Potter, and I sincerely hope that your summer break lives up to expectations. If you have any concerns, please owl me. I am truly sorry for having unloaded this all on you at once._ _I apologize for any inconveniences I have caused and send my regards. Oh, and the Headmaster doesn't need to know about this._

 _Sincerely_ _,_

 _Minerva McGonagall_

 _Deputy Headmistress and Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

I look up from the paper.

"Mum...I.." I try to explain. But what is there to explain? I was caught. I'm trapped.

I'm dead.

"Not yet, James," I see my father come into view. If he called me James instead of one of the many pet names that he knows I hate, something must be really wrong. "What you did was unacceptable. I really expected more from you. We will talk and decide on an appropriate punishment, and then you will go apologize, in person, to..." he trailed off exhausted, and turns to my mum. "Do you have any idea where this kid lives?"

"No...actually," she responds. Now that I think about it, I have no idea either.

"Bet it's some dump," I say, barley even hearing the words come out of my mouth. "I mean, have you seen Sniv's clothes? And hair?! His boggart is probably shampoo." I immediately bring my hands to my mouth. I can't believe I said that.

I look up and meet two pairs of glaring, cold eyes.

" _James Potter,"_ Mum whispers, her voice smooth yet sharp, like ice. _"Repeat what you said, if you please."_

"U-ummmm.." I mumble.

"I have never been more disappointed in you," Dad interrupts. "The second we find this child's address, you are going and apologizing."

"One more thing," Mum adds. "I know you had nothing to do with this Whomping Willow incident. However, I do not stand for bullying, no matter how 'justified' it may be." I feel a flash of anger. It's not my fault that Snivellus can't get his issues in order!

"B-BUT MUM!" I whisper-shout. "HE'S EVIL! A DEATH EATER!"

"James Potter. Not. Another. Word," I know I've taken it too far, and slip back into my room. Only inside do I notice tears on my cheeks.

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"Do we know _anything_ about this..." I look down at the paper. "Severus Snape?"

What a queer name. I wonder who in the right of mind would name their child SEVERUS. It sounds like SEVER US. And, from my knowledge of Latin, it means...think back...stern. Yikes. Crazy parents.

"Well..." Charulus, my husband starts.

"We have no idea where he lives," I murmur.

"Hmmmm..." My husband's eyebrows draw together in deep concentration. "Why don't we Fire-Call Minerva?"

That's actually a pretty good idea - and I think that you can call people on Hogwarts grounds. I hope she's in her office, however. There's a chance that she might - her letter suggested that she is - but there's always a possibility that she's not. Well, no harm in trying, right?

"Let's do it," I say, and grab the floo powder.

I throw some in the fireplace. "Minerva McGonogall's quarters, Hogwarts!" I stick my head in the fireplace.

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I didn't really know what I was expecting. Okay, maybe I was expecting a nice evening curling up with those Jane Austen books that nice muggleborn Gryffindor - Lily Evans, that's her name - bought me for Christmas. Oh, well.

What I wasn't expecting was Dorea Potter's head to suddenly pop out of the fireplace.

"Minerva!" She says, and I must admit to being happy at seeing my friend again.

"Dora!" I say. She must have a reason for being here...perhaps she got my letter? "What's the matter?"

"Do you know Snape's address?" Doesn't beat around the bush, that's my girl. I still remember going to school with her.

"Yes.." I start. Do I know his address? "Wait a minute, Dora."

I ruffle through a few papers until I find the one I desire. Hogwart's Student Handbook. I flip it open.

S...S...S. Sabatini, Camellia...Schafer, Marvin...I go down a few names. Smith, Jhonathan...Snape, Severus.

 _Snape, Severus - Mother: Elieen Snape née Prince, Pureblood; Father: Tobias Snape, Muggle._ _Born:_ _9 January, 1960, Current residence:_ _Spinner's End, Cokeworth, England, Great Britain._

"Okay. You listening, Dora?" I inquire.

"Yes, Minerva?" She asks.

"Severus Snape lives in Spinner's End, Cokeworth, England, Great Britain. I don't believe it is a wizarding community...people won't take kindly to apparition out in the open." I say. "Anything else?"

"No, that would be all, Minnie," she responds. "Thanks."

"My pleasure," It is always nice to see a friend. She pulls her head out of the fire.

What is she up to?

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"James?" I knock on my son's door. "Son, open up."

The door creeks open.

"Hi, dad," he says. He's sitting with his back hunched, facing the wall. It kills me to see my usually so confident son down in the dumps. However, what he did was unacceptable.

I sit on the bed, my weight making the mattress give slightly. I faintly smell Cologne and Chocolate in the air. Ah, the scent of James. Wait. I'm supposed to be angry with him.

"Why did you do it?" Why did he do it? Severus Snape seems like a decent enough kid.

"I-" He sighs, at loss for words.

"It's okay to not know," I start. This is going badly. Where is Dorea where you need her?! "But what's not okay is what you did to him."

There's a pregnant pause.

"I'm going to ask again: Why?" I say, somewhat demanding. I expected better from James.

"Dad...can I tell you something?" He asks.

"What?"

"I...I think he's a Death Eater," His voice is barley audible. "But that's not why we teased him." This comes as a shock. It basically confirms my worst suspicions - that my son's a bully. And, as the one who was always picked on as a child, it hits home, hard. I've failed as a parent. I shake those thoughts out of my head and put on a nice face. My son's opening up - and I need to understand the problem to address it.

"Why did you?" My voice is softer as well.

"Because he always fought back," he answers.

Our moment is ruined when an excited Dora opens the door. "James, Charley!" She exclaims.

"What is it, Dora?" I hope her fire-call went well.

"We're going to Spinner's End. BRING MUGGLE CLOTHING!" Dora's really excited. Then again, she loves wearing muggle clothing - Why? I'll never know.

* * *

 **V.**

"James, wear these pants," Mum throws some muggle-pants at me. They're very similar to what I wear under my robe. I throw on a muggle rock band T-Shirt that Pads gave to me for Christmas just to annoy his parents.

"Okay, 'M ready," I say, and tousle my hair a bit. If I have to see Snivelbrains, I'm going to look better than him.

"Give me a second, James. Charley, does this make me look funny?" Mum is dressed in a violet summer day-dress that looks more like something out of a Victorian-Age muggle book like the one Lily read to me rather than something you would wear to see somebody in the muggle world. Lily. She's so beautiful...and hot...no, more like supermegafoxyawesomehot...

"You look wonderful, as always, Dora dearest," Dad responds, still wearing robes, as he's decided to stay home to finish up some paperwork for his job at the Ministry.

"As do you, Charley, my sweet," I roll my eyes at their sweet nothings. Gross.

"PLEASE don't break out in song," I moan. They think they're destined for Muggle Broadway, and are determined to prove it.

"Something has changed within me.." Mum starts. Ugh. No. Not Defying Gravity.

"Mum, No, NO," I groan out loud.

She mock-glares at me, but it turns into a real glare when she remembers she's angry with me. Her expression hardens.

"Let's go. I'm going to apparate us into a pub. We're going to cross our fingers that they won't notice. Hold on," She reaches out for my hand, which I note is now bigger than hers.

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My feet hit the floor with a rather undignified _thump._ The first thing I notice is the smell of alcohol. The whole place smells like that cheap muggle butterbeer. Reeks of it, even. I collect myself, and offer my hand to James. He takes it, and brushes the dirt off of his pants.

"DEM'N, THA' UN. I SWE'R BY IT! HE' A DE'MON. YA, TOB'SS?" My attention turns to the muggles, all highly intoxicated, sitting together. A bottle of beer crashes to the ground. I pull James along with me and make towards the men. Something about this conversation doesn't feel right.

"YA, TOBBIE. YER SPAWN I'Z MENT'L IF I E'ER SAW U'N. CRAZY AZ THE' CUM'," A man slurs out, and I direct my attention to the person they're talking to, as drunk as the rest of them. He's a rather heavyset man with long, curly, greasy brown hair, nondescript hazel eyes, and pale skin. His most...prominent feature, however, is a large, rather slimy hooked nose. He takes another swig of his bottle before he begins to speak, his voice hoarse.

"THA' BOY, YE MEA'? I TRI' UN BEAT DE' CRAZY OUTTA 'M, BU' YA'KNO...YA'KNO...I FERGO'T..." The man says, and the table shakes with laughter.

"CAN' BLAME YERSEL', TOBS, S' ALL IN 'IM. BA' BLOOD, 'M TELLIN' YA! NERD..NEV'R SEEN 'M WITHO' A BOOK O' SUM SOR'. DEMON!" Who is this demon they keep taking about? My curiosity gets the better of me.

"Hello...would any of you tell me who you're talking about?" I ask. I turn to James, who's looking scared. I take his hand and pull him a little closer.

One man, more sober than the rest of them, looks me in the eye.

"Toby..." he gestures to the bloated man with greasy hair, "Toby's son. People think he's crazy. Honestly, I know the kid. He's not half bad. Odd, yes, very much so, but not...a demon. He goes off to his school for most of the year, but nice kid. Knows his stuff. He talks to me...in Italian, my native language. He just...thinks on another level, ya?" His thick Italian accent is welcoming, but something about this feels off. I will the feeling away.

"-GESS WOT! I SAW 'IM WIF' A CALDR'ON! 'M NOT JOKIN' WIF YE! WITCHCRAFT! WITCHCRAFT, I'M TELLIN' YE!" Voices brake out again, and disrupt me from my thoughts. I remember why we came here in the first place.

"Is this...Spinner's End?" I ask. The whole room falls silent. Suddenly, the man I've come to know as "Toby" speaks up.

"Ya, this's Spinner'nd," he seems to have sobered up a tad bit, which is a remarkable feat. I wonder how often he drinks like this to be able to do that. "Why?"

I gather my wits and hold my chin up, James behind me. "I'm wondering where a teenage male named Severus Snape lives." I might as well have put a stunning spell on the whole room.

"Y-y-yyou want to visit... _SNAPE_?" The man who spoke's voice is barley a whisper. Suddenly, the whole tables breaks out in fits of laughter. Some people are even crying.

"WH'Y THE 'ELL WOULD YOU WANT TO DO THA'?" Toby shouts.

"Why wouldn't I?" I'm getting annoyed with how little response I'm getting.

Toby looks me straight in the eye. "B'CASE THA' BOY IS A _DEVIL._ "

"Why would you say that?! You don't even know him!" My maternal instincts take over. How dare they?!

The room quiets. The Italian man from before breaks the silence. "Toby knows, him, all right. He's his son."

Oh. Merlin. The boy they were bad-mouthing earlier is Severus Snape?! I feel a pang of empathy. Here, everybody seems to hate him, and school must be his only refuge, which was disrupted by...my son.

The Italian man interrupts my thoughts. "He's at his house. Third down the street."

"Thanks," I whisper.

He gives me a sad smile. His eyes, which I note are a murky hazel, bore into mine.

"HEY NICO!" One of the guys shouts, as the men have turned back to the conversation, the last few moments forgotten. Nico, as I now know him to be, gestures to the door before joining his pals.

* * *

 **VI.**

Ouch.

Wow, we're feeling eloquent today. Ugh. Talking to yourself is the first sign of insanity. Oh, well.

I crack open my eyes and sigh. Still at Spinner's End. Looking down at my knees, I notice one's broken, and rather severe lacerations litter the other one. I stretch my back and wince at the pulling on the re-opened scars.

Oh, well.

I have two choices right now; I can angst my way through the rest of my day, mope, and feel sorry for myself, OR I can do something productive. Productive. Definitely. Not even really a question.

I was put in Slytherin for a reason - I am ambitious, if anything.

My eyes flutter closed again. No doubt they're bruised bloody. When was the last time I slept, now that I think about it?

Great.

I reach my hand out; if I can't walk, I can at least feel for my textbooks. My hand meets cool leather, and I slowly pull the age-old tome towards me.

It's heavy - most likely _Secrets of the Darkest Arts_ , than. Most people avoid Dark Arts like the plague. Than again, most people are utter imbeciles. Dark or Light, magic is magic, and intelligence is intelligence. Dark Arts do have an addictive quality, that I cannot deny. But most things do in life. Sugar, for example. Isn't sugar, such a seemingly pure and harmless ingredient in so many foods, similar in its allure? Sugar is allowed (in rather disturbing quantities) at Hogwars; why not Dark Arts? Is curbing a strong sweet tooth different than resisting becoming enamored with power and darkness? But I digress.

Windgardium Leviosa is a "Light" spell, taught to first years. But this basic levitating charm can kill just as well as an Avada Kedavra - you could simply toss someone out the window with it. All magic is capable of great good or great evil. Parseltounge, the ability to communicate with snakes, a gift transfered down the Slytherin line is generally associated with power-hungry, dark, sociopaths. However, Parselmagic, a unique branch of magic, can only be used by those who have aforementioned gift - and Parselmagic is some of the strongest healing magic there is. Isn't it more important how you use your magic, rather than if it is coherently "Light" or "Dark"? If you use "Light" magic for evil, and "Dark" magic for great good, wouldn't that make "Dark" magic _Light?_

Without Dark Magic, wouldn't you only be using half of your potential? Some wizards' cores are geared "Dark" by nature. That's not their fault. So why should they be punished, forever struggling with "Light" magic, just because of a characteristic of their Magical Core they can't control? As Albert Einstein once said: "Everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid." Aren't we basically making some fish try to climb trees while they watch monkeys swinging above?

And it brings up another point: How do you defend against something you have no knowledge of? If we're going to be able to fight against Dark Arts, shouldn't we understand them? You can't defeat a monster you know nothing about. Not knowing about the Dark Arts is a huge weakness. And, if I've learned anything in my sixteen years of life, it's that you CANNOT have weaknesses.

KNOCK.

KNOCK.

KNOCK KNOCK.

I jerk my head up, and vaguely note that I haven't actually read anything yet. No matter - I think bleeding to the point you feel faint in the head is a perfectly logical excuse for fifteen minutes of not studying.

I take a deep breath, slowly push my legs under me. My head thumps onto the floor. I must be weaker than I thought. Gosh, _Father_ may be a muggle, but her sure knows how to beat the stuffing out of me and...Elieen. He's been getting creative, too - a true artist in the ways of Domestic Abuse. A dry chuckle escapes me involuntarily. Blood falls out of my mouth and drips onto the floor. Internal bleeding. Fantastic.

I push my back up against the wall, and immediately I'm dizzy, the sheer pain almost making me crash back down. What a nice surprise. I scoot my back up the wall and wince as small pieces of wood contact uncovered flesh. No doubt I'll have some new splinters to add to my collection.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

Whoever's at the door is getting impatient. I shuffle to my feet and hiss slightly, calling up a glamour charm, to look healthy...well, less contused. I'm not ignoramus; I'm well aware how hideous I am, and my general sour disposition does no help to me.

I find myself across the room - I've been much too sleep-deprived of late, and my reflexes taking over more and more. I open the door. A rather pulchritudinous middle-aged lady stands in the doorway. Oh, another guest for tea at Madame's. Madame Moreau is a French immigrant, and often hosts small gatherings at her place down the road. How she got to Spinner's End, I'll never know. Best not to dwell on it...and just re-direct this lady to her destination.

My brain is sluggish, and takes twice the normal amount of time to register this information.

I clear my throat. Lucky for her, I speak French. "Excuse moi, Mademoiselle, mais je crains que vous avez la mauvaise adresse. Le parti de Mme Moreau est dans la rue, sur la droite. Sincère espère que vous trouverez avec facilité. Désolé pour la confusion," I say, my voice somewhat grainy from misuse. I start to close the door, but her and stops me.

"Snape? Severus Snape?" she asks.

What the...

I feel her magic lightly touch my mind. Legilimency, then. I strengthen my occlumency walls. She's magically decent - I'm going to need to hold up my walls for a while. Great.

I am a Black Lake. Calm, nothing disturbs me. No thoughts create ripples in the water. All my thoughts sink to the bottom, drowning in the murky darkness.

I picture myself plunging into the lake, controlling it. She can't get in. She never will.

Suddenly, James Potter comes striding up.

"Mum?" He asks the woman.

Merlin's Beard! What the devil is going on here?!

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The _click-click-click_ of James's and my shoes on the broken cobble are the only sounds in the dark alleyway. I clench James's hand even tighter, and allow my thoughts to wander.

In my mind, I have a mental image of Severus Snape.

In my mind, he's a rather chubby boy with brown hair like his father, and...sunburned skin, yes, sunburned skin. Rather slow...almost a Crabbe and Goyle type Slytherin. Hurt by his parents...he turned dark, and sought comfort in food...easy bully bait, and because of his blood status (I mean, we're in a muggle neighborhood!) he was scorned by his peers in Slytherin. Perhaps I could introduce him to Peter Pettegrew...

"Mum. Mum, his house is that one," James tugs on my arm and I allow him to pull me to the house.

I take a deep breath, and focus on my mental image. I got this.

"James, please wait at the bottom of the stairs," I say. I don't want him to get hurt...just in case.

I knock on the old, broken-down door. This whole house reeks of unwashed bodies, excessive amounts of booze, and...blood? I shudder.

I knock again.

And again.

And..again.

Finally, the door opens. I am not ready for the sight that greets my eyes.

I was prepared for a short, pudgy, awkward boy.

I couldn't have been more wrong.

I take a good glance at the boy standing in front of me.

I am met with a thin, tall figure who, despite being in a muggle neighborhood, is wearing full-length robes, not allowing me to really observe his physique. His greasy, ebony-black hair is falling in front of his face and rather unfortunately-shaped nose, and his skin is deathly pale, to the point where it's a sickly, gross ivory-yellow color. However, his most interesting feature is his eyes. Dark swirling pools of obsidian, I feel like I'm falling into a never ending tunnel just by looking at them. His shoulders are hunched in a way that I'd never let James do for fear of him damaging his spinal cord. His whole body screams "I'm going through an awkward stage!", but his eyes shout "I'm mysterious and intelligent!"

He clears his throat. "Excuse moi, Mademoiselle, mais je crains que vous avez la mauvaise adresse. Le parti de Mme Moreau est dans la rue, sur la droite. Sincère espère que vous trouverez avec facilité. Désolé pour la confusion," he says, his voice, despite having a hoarse undertone, is smooth, like rich, dark chocolate. Something about him radiates superiority. Yet...something is off. His movements seem to be...weird, in a way. And where did he learn to speak FRENCH?! Does Hogwarts teach foreign languages?

He starts to close the door in my face. By now I'm very, very confused.

"Snape? Severus Snape?" I ask. He stops closing the door, apprehensive.

So I do what I usually do in these kinds of situations, I touch his mind.

 _I plunge into his mind. I'm expecting what I usually see with kids this age - a hormonal mess of mood swings, depressiveness, and rather...disturbing...thoughts...about...love. Instead, I am greeted with a lake. A big, black, dark lake, more precisely. And he's in his mind. The boy...Severus..turns towards me, and plunges into the depths of the lake, a smirk on his face. What is going on?_

 _"_ Mum!" James shakes me out of my thoughts. He glares at Snape. "Why, HELLO, Snivellus."

"Pleasure as always, Potter," His voice is icy, like the lake in his mind.

"You live HERE?! In this dump?!" James spits.

"10 points to Gryffindor," Snape smirks, and crosses his arms.

"BOYS!" I am amazed by James's attitude. I nudge him.

"Can we come in?" He asks, rather rudely.

"I don't know, _can_ you?" Snape, I note, is very talented in sarcasm.

Suddenly, I notice he flickers. I don't know how to describe it other than that. His whole image ripples. For a second, I see him gravely injured. But only for a second.

It was just a trick of the light.

He regains his composure.

"May we please come in?" I ask, my voice soft. He looks somewhat startled, as if he forgot I was there.

"Sevvvvieeeeee," a voice calls out, unstable, from across the hall. Abruptly, his whole posture stiffens. "I'll be a moment!" He calls out, and turns toward us.

"Sorry. Somebody is in need of assistance," he mutters. "Follow me, I'll take you to the kitchen."

Suddenly, a gaunt, old-looking woman with bruises and cuts all over her staggers into the entrance, swoons, and collapses onto him, planting a kiss firmly on his thin lips. "Myyyy llOveeeE, iTs beEeennnnn tOO lOOoonggggG."

"I'm your relative, please, unhand me," he whispers, all to accustomed to this.

"YooooOOOuuuU saaAAaayyyY myyy feeElingsss are relllllativE?" She puts even more weight his lithe frame, and proceeds in trying to snog her...relative.

He simply takes a vial from his pocket.

"Drink this, Elieen," he whispers and uncorks it.

"WwwwhhhhhHHYYYYY?" Elieen whines.

"It will make us go to a place full of sunshine, rainbows, and colorful shampoo," Snape deadpans, and I almost laugh. Elieen doesn't catch the sarcasm.

"OOOOKKkkaaaAayyyyyYY!" She swipes the bottle and drinks it all in one gulp. She blinks, and gets up.

"Sev?" She questions, as if seeing him for the first time. "What happened?"

"Nothing. Now, go to work," he takes her hand and pushes her past us, out the door. "See you at eight."

Was that his...mother?!

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I turn towards James and his..mother, apparently. "My relative drank a hallucination-inducing potion I was experimenting with." Lie. My mother is insane and a drug addict. "I gave her the antidote." Lie. I'm giving her a potion that will temporarily clear her mind and take all the drugs and other...products out of her system.

"Are you..okay?" Ms. Potter asks. James looks positively grossed out.

"Of course." Lie. I'm literally dying on the spot, but you don't know because I'm wearing a glamour. "I'll get some tea." Lie. I'm going to attempt to _accio_ some of Madame's tea supplies.

I lie so much. Really, its nasty how much I do. But I don't think the world's ready for the truth.

I steal a glance at them. They've forgotten about tea. Good.

I feel dizzy again. So, so dizzy. My thoughts are disjointed and slow. My brain, instead of the easy-to-work-with clear, organized space, humming with new ideas it usually is, It feels like molasses.

Just a few more hours until they go...

I sigh. I'm going to have to take them up to my room... _Absolutely corking_.

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There's something very wrong with Snivellus.

I can see it, and I'm not very observant. His pale hands shake a little bit, and then still. I take some time to look around the house.

If this is what all muggle houses look like, then I sure as hell never, ever want to live in one. The walls have this strange white paint on them that's peeling - there's almost none of it left, revealing old, brittle, cracked wood. The room consists of a pile of haphazardly strewn broken furniture, bottles of unknown substance, and a small box with dials.. _Radio_ , I remember. It's a radio.

I smell liquor of some sort in the air...but also something else. My breath catches in my throat. Blood?! I must be hallucinating.

Snape abruptly turns a corner and leads us a set of stairs.

Crunch.

I look down. I've stepped on something...

Broken glass. I've stepped on broken glass.

WHY would BROKEN GLASS be on stairs?!

I notice there's a large dent in the concrete stairs, as well as some broken spots, almost as if...someone was thrown down them. I shake these thoughts from my head. Wow, something is really wrong with me.

We get to the top of the stairs, and Snape turns on his heel and walks straight into a room. I go inside, and I hear mum gasp next to me. This room can only be described as a Ravenclaw's dream.

Every inch of the floors are covered in books. There are some old, mouldy-looking ones, a few new ones, perched in a pile, and an overwhelming amount of plastic-wrapped books with little codes on them. Strange muggle inventions.

And the walls. The walls! Quotes litter the walls - there's no white space to be seen. I go up to one.

 _"_ _From what I've tasted of desire,_ _I hold with those who favor fire."_

Something about the odd quote chills me to the bones. I point at it.

"What does this mean?" I ask.

"Oh, Potter, are you once again proving that you are illiterate?" I feel a burst of anger. Fire, indeed. Sniv rolls his eyes.

"It's an excerpt of a poem, _Fire and Ice_ , by an American muggle Poet named Robert Frost," he answers. I wonder what the whole thing is...

"What's the rest of it?" I ask. I'm getting really curious.

"You want me to _recite_ _poetry_?" He sounds a bit weirded out. Oh, well - that's his problem. I nod my head and smirk.

He clears his throat awkwardly. I feel mother listening as well.

His eyes close in concentration.

" _'Some say the world will end in fire, some say ice. From what I've tasted of desire, I hold with those who favor fire. But if it had to perish twice, I think I know enough of hate to say for destruction ice is also great and would suffice,'"_ His voice is smooth and sends a shiver down my spine.

Muggles sure know how to do poetry.

"Did...did this...guy write any more?" I question.

"Yes."

"Can I have some more? Please?" I cringe at how desperate I sound.

"What is this, Oliver Twist?! _'Please, Sir, I want some more'._ "

What is Oliver Twist?

Never the less, he picks up a rather frayed, yet obviously well-cared for, book. He caresses the cover lovingly before reluctantly handing it over. I look at the cover. _The Poetry of Robert Frost: The Collected Poems_.

"Put a scratch on this, and you're dead, Potter," he says.

I wonder what made him so attached to this book. I pocket it.

"Thanks.." I mutter. He death-glares at me. I hear him whisper something about Lilies under his breath.

He suddenly lurches and grabs the bed frame. What?! His whole image ripples, like those...whatchamacalem...Televisions, yes, televisions...in Muggle studies.

He collects himself.

"Are we just going to sit around? Why are you gracing me with your presence?" He asks.

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James's mother is saying something about apologizing. James is whining.

My head is spinning. Everything is fuzzing out. I feel...wet?

Why am I wearing glamours? Oh, right.

It feels like puffballs are eating my brain. Puffball armies.

Mmmmmmm.

Wow, I'm in pain. Pain and molasses. Molasses?

GET YOUR ISSUES IN ORDER...

I need to focus.

Focus and glamour.

Focus...

Focus...

* * *

 **VII.**

Snape's eyes are glazed over. I've never seen him like this. And the air...is thick with magic.

"Is something wrong with him, Mum?" I ask, not really concerned. This is Snivellus.

"James..." Mum begins. Great - another lecture.

Suddenly, Snape's eyes roll back into his head. Without further ado, he faints. Wait. Why is he suddenly covered in blood?! WHAT IS GOING ON?!

Mum runs to his side and flips him over. Oh, Merlin.

Sni- no, Snape's skin is not pale anymore, it's almost translucent and yellowish. Mum rips of his robes, and gasps. He's scary thin - I can count every one of his ribs and am not even going to attempt that with his scars. His whole back is full of bleeding, oozing, re-opened wounds, and a few bones stick out in scary angles. Bruises color his body, and his knee is banged up pretty bad. Shards of broken glass are stuck in his scrawny appendages. His greasy hair is matted with dried blood. And his nose...I've always made fun of his hooked, ugly nose, but...I look down at it. It's obviously broken, healed, and broken again since summer started. He coughs, and some strange reddish-yellowish-blackish liquid falls out of his mouth.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Mum screams and a wispy brown bear leaps from her wand and runs to...dad, most likely.

She grabs my hand and I pick up Snape. He's really light - not going to be a bother.

With a POP we apparate into St. Mungo's and throw open the doors to the Emergency Ward.

Dad arrives, takes one look at us, takes another look at Snape, and bursts into action.

"HEY! SOMEBODY! HELP!"

Quite frankly, I'm too panicked to think.

Only one thought flashes through my head:

Is Snivellus really _evil_?

* * *

 **DONE.**

 ***Does happy dance***

 **Okay, I feel like this was WAAAAY too fast paced. Don't be afraid to tell me that if you agree.**

 **I got some mixed messages on the SLASH question, so I'm going to ask it again - Please give your opinion. SLASH? YAY? NAY? IF YOU AGREE, SAY "AYE!" (YES) OR "NAY!" (NO!)**

 **Continuing on.**

 **I'm loosing gusto...HELP ME BY GIVING ME REVIEWS. PLEASE. I DON'T WANT TO LEAVE THIS STORY WHERE IT IS.**

 **Next chappie (maybe...just review...): James reflects, Sirius reflects, they read poetry, Severus and Regulus bonding, and...LUCIUS?**

 **This took me a really long time. I was wondering if you want short chapters that come more quickly or longer chapters (like this) that are posted less often.**

 **THANK YOU to my reviewers, favoriters, and followers. I'll get back to all of you as soon as possible. I will do my best to respond to EVERY REVIEW. You guys are amazing. Yes, you.**


	3. The Bearers of Bad News

**Beta: If anyone's interested, I need one (badly)**

 **Okay, I got more "AYE"s than "NAY"s so...there shall be slash! However, it's going to be a pretty slow progression, and may not really get very far...romance isn't my main focus in this story. Complaints? I'm happy to hear them! YOUR REVIEW COULD CHANGE THE STORY.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form.** **This is going to be a shorter chapter, just FWI.**

* * *

 **VII.**

I feel the chair next to me creak as James sits down. My neck is still bent forward.

It hits me.

I call myself a Gryffindor, but I wasn't brave enough to stand up for the one person in my life who deserves it...my own little brother. I abandoned all my duties as a big brother and just pranced around, like I was the king of the world.

Well, all kings eventually have to step down from the throne.

I hear a sigh next to me.

Distraction. Yes, distraction.

"James?" I ask.

"Ya, Siri?" His voice is hoarse.

"Wh...what brings you here?" I've never felt so awkward talking to my best friend.

"He called him a devil," James rasps.

What? Devil? What?

"Um..." I start. James interrupts me.

"They thought he was a devil. Devil! His own father!" I see my friend's face for the first time, and it is lined with tears.

"Prongs..." I need to find out what the...well, devil...is going on.

"No, Pads! We messed up! I messed up! Sni-Snape...his dad...I just...I don't know what's right anymore! All my life, I've told myself that all Slytherins are evil. Now what?! Now what's right?" His face holds so much emotion, and is turning red with...fear?

He calms.

"From what I've tasted of desire, I hold with those who favor fire," He mutters, subconsciously rubbing the spine of the book he's holding.

"Robert Frost," I say almost automatically. Reg told me about him once. Said something about a friend who lived in the muggle world bringing books to Hogwarts. Reg...Reg.

The picture of Snivellus, broken and bloody, flashes through my mind.

"So...why was Sniv hurt?" I laugh lightly. Distraction.

James looks at me. His gaze is dead serious, and his eyes burn with hidden fury. For a moment, they look...just like Sniv's eyes. It sends a shiver down my spine. I don't think I've ever seen him this angry.

" _Snape_ was hurt because his father nearly killed him."

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I turn away from my best friend. I can't talk to him right now. It just proves what we did.

I can't believe what happened.

I've always throughout of the world as black and white - Death Eaters and "Good" People - there was no middle, no gray area. All Slytherins were bad. All Gryffindors - and Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws - were good.

Now I don't know what to think.

So I do the one thing I honestly never do - read.

I gently open the worn cover, and the spine _creeks_ and _cracks_ with use.

I look down at the first page.

 _Sev -_

 _I got you this book because I think it would do you some good to read something that isn't a textbook - don't roll your eyes at me! - and this is my favorite collection of poems._

 _Can't wait to go to Hogwarts together! I bet we'll both be in Ravenclaw. Only a couple more weeks left!_

 _xoxo, Lily_

 _P.S. I want you to share this with whoever you come across. So there - it's not a present, don't feel guilty._

Lily was Snape's friend?

I mean, I knew that, but before Hogwarts?

I look back at the short note. By the way it's written, they obviously had been friends. Good friends. Best friends.

And _xoxo, Lily?_ That's almost romantic.

Oh. Merlin.

Were they...in love?

Gosh.

Snape obviously took her words to heart. He gave this book to me - his tormenter. To do that...after they severed ties...oh. Gods.

Does Snape still have a crush on Lily Evans?

As in, the Lily Evans who I'm dating? To date?

I feel a flash of guilt, like I always do when I think of Lily's name.

Why?

I mean, I've been pining after her since first year. I beat the Evil Snivellus to her. I won.

But is Snape even evil?

Does he deserve her?

No, no, of course I deserve her. Snape may have a bad home life, but he still is not a nice person. Lily belongs with me. Me.

So why do I feel so bad?

I love Lily.

I _love_ her.

I shake myself out of my thoughts and close the book.

There's a reason I don't like to read.

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My son goes and sits down next to his best friend - Sirius. I sigh, and watch with unseeing eyes as the young boy, drenched in blood, is dragged from our sight. I'm still having trouble processing what happened.

I feel in shock.

"-Potter? Miss Potter?" I snap out of my thoughts to see a young girl, fresh out of Hogwarts, holding a clipboard.

She smells of sanitation.

"Yes?" I ask. I'm not in the mood for this.

"Please, follow me," she says, and turns on the spot.

We follow her as her feet, squashed into high-heels, click on the tile floor. I reluctantly follow.

I feel my husband's warm, strong hand encircle mine and squeeze. I rest my head gently on his broad shoulder.

I'm glad I have him in times like this.

We enter an all-too-bright room. We take a seat on white chairs. A woman - muggleborn, I'm guessing - opens a bag of low-fat sugar-free cookies. The walls are white. The flowers are white. The nurse who let us in is wearing white. White, White, White. Why are all doctors' offices white? Why couldn't they be black? Yes, black is more fitting. It is more respectful to the people dying here. I just hope that Severus Snape won't be one of them.

"Wait here a minute," the nurse who lead us in smiles, revealing shiny teeth with a lipstick smudge on them. I look under her heavily-powdered eyes and see small bags. The life of a new nurse.

A doctor, this one older, walks up to us. He smiles, his eyes tired, and I immediately feel more relaxed. He's got this under control.

"Hello. Sorry for the wait," he runs a hand through graying black hair. "I'm Doctor Zabani. And you are..."

"Dorea and Charulus Potter. Pleased to meet you," I answer for the two of us.

He gives us a weary smile before continuing. "Unfortunately, I have some bad news. We put Mr. Snape in an emergency lab...however, we have a few concerns."

I raise my eyebrows. He looked bad..but nothing the healers can't fix. Right?

"How so?" Charulus voices my concerns for me.

Mr. Zabani looks grim and glances around. "I think you better come with me."

We walk down the hall, this one deserted, and into a small office.

"Coffee? Tea?" he asks awkwardly. Oh, great. If he's offering beverages, he must have really bad news.

"Tea, please," I say and spare a glance at my husband. He looks white as a sheet. I rub his arm encouragingly.

"I'm good," he says, and cracks a small smile. Trust Charley to try and make light of a situation - it's obvious where James got his personality from. I'm glad he's here for me. I wouldn't want anyone else with me right now.

"Accio," A cup of tea appears in his hands. He gives it to me. I take a small sip to calm my nerves, but my hands shake.

The healer's shoulders look tense, and he sits down in a chair under a desk. He gestures to the two right in front of him. I take a seat and hear Charulus take the one next to me.

The healer rubs at his knuckles. Must be a nervous habit.

He finally raises his eyes to us.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news," a nervous chuckle escapes my lips. I squeeze my husband's hand. "But I don't think there is much we can do for Mr. Snape."

Oh, no...

"Is...has he...passed?" My voice breaks.

"Oh, goodness, no, no, nothing like that," the healer looks a bit panicked at that thought. I breathe a sigh of relief. He's not gone..yet. "But...we can't do any more for him. We've given him some stabilizing potions, but we can't do anything else."

I feel a flash of anger and resentment. What does he mean that he can't do anything else?! A child in need was brought to him, hurt by those who were supposed to love and care for him, and here's a person who's trained in healing telling me that they aren't going to help?! My tea is splashing over the sides of its china mug from the jittering of my hands.

"What...do you _mean_ when you say you can't do anything else?" Charley's voice is tight. He loves children, and can't bear to see one getting hurt. Heck, if The Dark Lord himself was abused as a child, Charulus would be the first to jump to his aid. Sometimes I think they sort too soon - I've always thought him more of a Hufflepuff once he turned thirteen and gained some perspective on the world.

"I'm sorry," he sounds sincere. "But this child, quite literally, hasn't a penny to his name. No medical insurance. Because of his half-muggle status, the ministry's policies don't apply to him like they would a pureblood or even a half-blood who was half muggleborn. To heal him, we need a parent or guardian's consent, as well - It's in our policy to do that before administering the potions that he needs."

I'm shocked. I've gone around blissful and ignorant to how, for lack of better word, messed up our system is.

Is there any hope left for Severus Snape?

* * *

 **VIII.**

"Why are you here?" James refuses to meet my eyes. The question shocks me. We've been sitting in uncomfortable silence for the past half-hour, after...well.

"Oh. Um, my brother," I feel an all-too-familiar pang in my chest. Reg...Reg, Reg...Why?

The world starts to fuzz, and I feel the tears I've been holding back slowly come to my attention. No. I'm not going to cry. Merlin, I'm tired. And so, so, confused. Oh, gods. I look over at James.

"Regulus, right?" he whispers.

"Yeah. Mum has a strong wand hand!" I try to chuckle, but it comes out more like a gasp.

I tense up as James grabs my hand and pulls me into a rough hug.

"Merlin, Siri...Is...he...you know.." We've never really been touchy-feely, but, right now, James's awkward man hug is exactly what I need.

"Yeah...I...Reg...he's my kid brother, you know? My responsibility...I just..." I look at him dead in the eyes and we return to our own chairs. I offer a small smile.

"Hey...so...what do you want to do?" James collapses into his chair and slumps his shoulders.

"Is it just me, or is that nurse kinda hot?" I smirk, my eyes glinting. She really is...I just can imagine -

James snaps me out of my, admittedly, rather dirty thoughts. He raises an eyebrow. "Hey, I'm just helping the human race not die out!"

"Yeah, Pads, St. Mungo's is a _great_ place to flirt." And just like that, the tension between us disappears.

"Mr. Black?" A nurse comes up to me. "I need to speak with you for a second."

I spare a nervous glance at James, who looks at me, confused.

"I'll just be a moment, Prongs, I bet Reg is up or something.." I murmur to him before looking back at the nurse. I read her nametag. _Paige_ , it reads, and is covered in these little kitty muggle stickers.

Paige gives me a nod, and starts down the hall. I follow. I smell the antiseptic and feel the magic in the air. Gross.

She goes up to a door and puts her ear to it. She knocks twice, and, upon deciding that there is no patients in there, enters. I follow after her.

I take a seat in a chair. She turns on me.

"Mr. Black," she says, her eyes sad. "What do you know of your brother's condition?" Her hands fidget with the papers she's holding. Oh, that's all she wants to know? I can do that!

"The cruciatus curse was used on him for around...I would say, ten minutes? Maybe less?" I answer and smile.

"No. That's not what I meant," she rubs her eyes tiredly. What the heck does she mean, then!? "To be very blunt, Mr. Black, your brother has strange slashes on his wrist, is very underweight, and is sleep-deprived. Are there any troubles at your home? Does your brother not get enough to eat at home? As for the cuts, we have no idea what those are. Here in the wizarding world, we are in the dark about these conditions. However, do you have any information regarding this or know anyone who was very close to him who will be able to further inform us?"

Oh, no...this sounds like something I need Moony for. I need somebody who knows about this stuff.

I put my head in my hands. Somebody who knows him well...oh, Merlin, no.

Snape. Snape knows him well - or, at least, they're always together. That's most likely one of the main reasons I have it in for Sniv. And now he's in the hospital...

Gods, why?

No. Anything to help Reg. Anything. And Snape...well, he may not be as bad as I thought.

"Severus Snape," I sigh.

"Pardon?" Paige looks confused. "He's in the emergency room at present moment."

"No," I say. "Severus Snape knows about my brother's conditions. We can...I mean, can we question him once his is a little better?"

The nurse sighs. "Very well." She gives me an awkward pat on the back.

Suddenly, everything comes crashing down on me.

My brother...I failed him.

I failed everybody.

So much for Gryffindor courage.

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A very distraught Sirius Black stumbles into the waiting room.

His lips are moving but not making any sounds. I see the beginnings of tears starting in his eyes.

That's what sets off a red alarm. Pads...is strong. Always has been. Sirius Black - the prankster, the quidditch-star, Mr. Popular, The sexy idiot, the one who goes through girlfriends so fast that Moony has given some very harsh talks. The reckless one. One of the Marauders.

He's like one of the elements of the universe - fire is hot, water is wet, Sirius Black is the Classic Gryffindor. Well, I guess he's not the only one messing up the universe today. Snape was one of the elements of the universe too.

I snap out of my thoughts. I need to help my friend!

"Siri," I take his hand as he mumbles more nonsense. "What happened?"

He looks at me with tears in his eyes. I pause for a minute. His eyes are so full of hurt and remorse - I thought I'd never see the day when Sirius was, well, serious.

"Reg," he mumbles. I feel a flash of anger. What did that nurse do to him? Oh...Did he die? No. No.

"Tell me." It's a command, not a question. I know enough about my best friend to know what he needs right now.

"He...he...something..I dunno...he starved himself! Didn't sleep! And wrist thingies!" He's blabbering nonsense.

"Calm down, Pads," I say. I still don't understand what's going on. I know we're attracting stares, but sometimes you have to do stuff like this. I don't even care. All I care about right now is that Sirius is okay.

"My brother. Regulus. He...he...I don't even know, Prongs! He's doing things...to himself!" That sparks a flash of recognition. One time, a while back, I eavesdropped on Mum and Dad talking about a muggleborn woman who starved herself and cut her wrists because of all the pureblood propoganda that was going around. Regulus couldn't have...not Siri's brother...Oh, no.

"It's going to be okay, Siri,"

I only wish I could believe myself.

I don't know anything anymore. In the course of 24 hours, everything I've come to know, every belief, every single principle and moral I have has been questioned.

All I know from here forward is one thing:

Nothing is ever going to be the same again in my little universe.

* * *

 **Okay, I'm not very happy with this chapter, but thought I should publish something because you guys are so epic and you deserve something. This is kind of a cliff hanger...MWHAHAHAHHA!**

 **THANK YOU TO WHOEVER REVIEWED, FAVORITED, OR FOLLOWED. You guys are what's keeping me going. I had no idea this story was going to get so much attention! Thank you. Yes, you.**

 **I need a beta!**

 **Also, please tell me who you would like me to include as a more secondary character.**

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